Bananas (warning, will make me hungry): an analogy

This may seem long and convoluted, but I do have a point in here somewhere. If you can bear with me, it may be worth it.

First off, I love food, so at times I contemplate the complexity of the world through the things I eat, since I’m usually snacking on something. (and no, I’m not skinny, so you don’t have to be jealous)

Today, on my way home, I got a bunch of bananas. For anyone who gets nasty cramps, potassium boosts are a great way to help the body deal with cramps, but we usually can’t process the potassium in multivitamins very well (rather… we can’t keep it… it tends to go right through the system even though it’s IN the vitamins we eat). Bananas are fairly high in potassium, so it’s a good cramp fix. I like bananas, so I tend to have them in small bunches. (they’re also high in fiber, which makes people in China think of them as natural laxatives)

(if you want to know other good potassium sources, feel free to ask)

Well, most people I know like pretty, unbruised bananas. This is also true for fruits in general. If you don’t believe me, watch most consumers in the supermarket. They all want to pick out the perfect, best looking fruit. Supermarkets limit what they are willing to take from farmers in order to meet that kind of consumer demand.

I don’t care too much when it comes to bananas. The beat up bananas, so long as they aren’t growing anything fuzzy, are sweeter and actually mix together better for cooking almost anything (from blending smoothies to pancakes… I am seriously drooling).

I’m weird though. Most people I know love beautiful bananas (all you people with your minds in the gutter, get them out! I’m seriously just talking about fruit here, though I know they are nature’s packed up sexual organs, just don’t go there!), they’re unbruised, have a good look to them, etc.

Today I bought some of these “pretty” bananas because they were all the lady had in her stall. I didn’t really care since “cramps” and “hungry” were all that were running through my head. Well, part of me was sad. I wouldn’t have those nice squishy sweet bits to deal with since they were “perfect” bananas.

But that’s just it. I got home and devoured them (relishing them) and figured out that I was wrong. Of my 5 bananas, 3 of them were actually very bruised on the inside.

And it made me think of all the wonderful pretty beautiful yet infuriating people I know. They are, most likely, also bruised on the inside, even if they don’t show it.

If I like you and trust you, I wear my bruises like battle scars. I don’t like to hold in things that bug me, I don’t like to hold in my past. I’m the “busted up” banana. You know what you’re getting. Lots of people I know are the pretty bananas, but they still need all the love and caring that us other bananas need and get. (This is all sounding very weird to me because my students call me “banana”… so I feel like I’m saying my name 500 times)

People get hurt. No matter how shallow they are, they do. I get hurt, I see people around me get hurt, and sometimes I see myself hurting the people around me. I think it’s part of getting by, of living, though I certainly hope in my own small way to lessen the amount of pain going around. That seems true to me for a lot of the people I associate with. Just remember that sometimes that pain can be hidden in something that “looks” totally beautiful and pretty, like that perfect banana in the store.